Vathia (The Damorleia Chronicles #2)

CHAPTER ONE

A FUCKING DRAGON. My Little Mouse is a rider.

Not only that, I’m positive she’s Princess Maeven.

There’s not a doubt in my mind now that I’ve seen her astride the deep purple beast. The royal dragons have only ever chosen Gallalaus fae, and there she is.

But what was she thinking? She has outed herself to our fathers and, by extension, the realm.

They’ve already killed off the rest of the royals and Gallalaus fae—it’s not hard to figure out that they would be coming after her next.

My gaze snaps to the Lords of Damorleia huddled like vultures on the stage, before darting back to her as she lands on the battlement, her face filled with horror, the stone of the wall crunching and breaking up in chunks of dust as the weight of her enormous beast settles atop its ancient bulk.

Her dragon’s roar echoes across the mountains, shaking the ground beneath our feet.

When I look back to our fathers, the expression of pure malice on their faces doesn’t shock me, but what has my teeth on edge is the calculating glint in the eyes of Talyn’s father as he stares down Maeven—Ravina?

Before I can even figure out how to get us all out of this mess, a magnificent white dragon lands on the opposite side of the battlement with Aemon Zorn glaring down at all of us from its back.

The brick crumbles beneath his dragon’s powerful claws, and it lets off its own matching roar.

Talyn, standing beside me, quietly up until this point, curses up a storm as he realizes who is now among us.

“Traitor to the crown!” Lord Craven bellows, all signs of that nerve-racking glint gone.

The recruits in the training yard begin to scramble, a couple of males running past us into the castle to alert others.

What the fuck is Zorn thinking? —that arrogant, crazy bastard looking regal somehow in his leathers with his messy white hair blowing in the crisp mountain breeze of this afternoon.

Why would he be here now after staying safe within the borders of Vathia for the past two decades?

“We need to get her out of here,” I murmur beneath my breath to Kill and Talyn, my lips barely moving.

Talyn subtly shakes his head with a defeated look in his gaze. “They know who she is, she—”

“Son, what the fuck are you standing around for? Get to your dragons and bring me the traitor’s head.”

Tal nods tersely.

“Oh, and bring the female rider back to me. Alive.” A slow plotting grin spreads across Tal’s father’s face as he begins shouting orders to restrain the two perched dragons.

“Yes, Lord Craven,” Talyn mutters, before spinning on his heels and dashing towards the Dragon Keep.

Killian and I take off after him, ignoring the yells from our fathers, which will be the same instructions as what was told to Talyn.

If not, I know we will pay for the insubordination later.

I’ll take whatever punishment—we just can’t let her get into their hands.

I have no clue what Talyn is planning, but I trust him to get her and us out of this.

After sprinting faster than in any of our drills, we arrive in the Dragon’s Keep, and a loud booming crack of magical artillery sounds behind us at the same moment as Tisur, Voissor and Zaddro land in the field in front of us, making the ground shake violently.

Fuck—they’ve begun the attack! Just as I fear the worst, a huge shadow passes over us from Ravina’s massive purple dragon as it flies overhead at breakneck speed away from the castle, followed closely by Zorn’s white.

Our fathers’ dragons stand off in the distance of the Dragon Keep like statues, unmoving.

My hackles rise along the back of my neck but I ignore it as I rush towards my bonded beast.

“The queen of dragons has chosen her rider. The ones who stand with us won’t harm the female,” Tisur informs me.

Without breaking pace I climb up his leg, gripping at the blue scales and spikes along the way until I’m settled on the saddle nestled at the base of his neck.

“I figured as much; we need to get her out of here.” But we can’t do it ourselves, not yet.

An idea forms in my mind—her friends. If they are as closely bonded as I think they are, they’ll help her.

They’ve been inseparable for months now.

I relay the message to my dragon and he gets a message to Zaddro and Voissor in turn as we take off, heading away from the others, back to the field around the battlement while my brothers race after the fleeing dragons.

Talyn’s massive black beast falls back and he nods his head, which I can only hope means that they’re in agreement with my barely hashed out idea.

“That’s exactly what that means,” Tisur snorts as he veers left, forcing me to grip tightly to the freshly polished saddle and ignore the burst of wind in my ear.

I look over my shoulder to watch my brothers close the distance on Ravina just as a black, riderless dragon swoops at her. Zorn’s dragon tries to help, snapping at the beast’s neck. Whose fucking dragon is attacking her?

“Tisur, turn back, we need to help them!” I bellow, my illusion magick crackling helplessly at my fingertips. I watch in horror as Ravina tumbles from the back of her dragon. The small black dot in the distance that I know is her frame plummets with heart-stopping speed towards the ground.

Tisur’s roar matches my own as he spins back towards her, nearly throwing me from his back, though he’s nowhere near close enough to save her from falling, my illusion and mental magick useless against the tragedy happening before my eyes. Even Voissor and Zaddro ahead of me are too far away.

Suddenly, a pulse of ancient magick, almost visible with its slight shimmer, erupts from Ravina. A searing pain down my right thigh has me gasping and grabbing my leg.

“Something is happening to me,” I gasp, clutching the saddle so I don’t plunge to my death. It’s like everything inside of me has come alive and died at the same time—like my core being has irrevocably changed, my soul altered forever.

I don’t take my eyes off Ravina’s falling form, and just before she hits the ground, I’m startled to see her beast scoop her up and land gently, placing her newly bonded rider in the snow under her, guarding her from incoming attacks.

My breath catches and a staggering amount of relief seeps through me as we reach them and Tisur lands between Voissor and Zaddro.

There’s no sign of the black dragon that was just attacking her.

It’s vanished with the wind. It’s strange—why would any dragon agree to attacking their queen?

More questions rise to the surface but it’s not the time to get philosophical. It’s time to get stabby.

“Go speak with your brothers,” Tisur tells me, his often deadpan voice now sounding something akin to pride and relief. “I must check on my mate,” he adds casually, which has me doing a double take at my dragon.

“Mate? What the fates do you mean by ‘mate’?” I ask, but I get no reply as he stares at the purple dragon that’s protecting Ravina from us. “Tisur? Answer me. Mate?” He ignores me other than the slight impatience that I’m not off his back yet.

I climb down and move towards my brothers who are storming towards Aemon with fury etched into their already dark expressions.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you planning on ruining everything? You need to leave before the Lords decide to come and take your head for themselves!” Talyn hisses, shoving Aemon, our oldest friend, with enough force to send him backwards into the leg of his sleek white dragon.

I get between them, ignoring the throbbing pain along my thigh that’s gradually fading. “I think we have bigger things to worry about.”

“Like what?” they both snap at me.

“Like, I don’t know, Ravina being Maeven, and how her dragon basically outed her to the whole realm? We need to get her out of here!”

Killian snarls,“You’re supposed to be getting her friends.

Go! Check to see if any of them even survived the trials so they can leave with her—even if we have to force them to go.

She can’t stay at Phixmery any longer, and we can’t be seen talking to Aemon, so pull out your swords and spar.

We still have to keep up appearances.” He pulls out his blades with a wince.

Aemon pulls out his blades with a maniacal grin. “I’m taking Maeven with me. She’ll be safe in Vathia. Just go back to your Lords and tell them I got away after I killed her. Problem solved. The realm already thinks I’m an evil being with no care for fae lives and a hatred for the crown.”

Talyn shakes his head. “He knows you won’t kill her. Kidnap will have to do. Go, Vathia is probably the safest place for her right now.” His eyes widen. “Blue dragon and two gryphons incoming!”

I turn to see he’s right when my dragon speaks into my mind. “It’s the little Queen’s friends. They’ve come to save her,” he chuffs.

I tell the others to stop them arming up against the new arrivals.

“They’re friendlies, but we don’t have much time before the rest of Phixmery is on our ass,” I state before moving over to where Ravina is lying in the snow, her raven bouncing around her head frantic with worry and her dragon eyeing me like I’m a tasty little morsel.

“I just want to check on her,” I tell the purple beast, lowering my head in submission. This dragon is a royal, and the last thing I want to do is piss it off.

When I raise my head, the dragon’s nose is a hand’s width away from my face, and its hot breath gusts the hair back from my brow. With its eyes narrowed, it dips its head in a slight nod, letting me know I have permission to move towards my Little Mouse.